Boy Therapy

posted in: Family life | 0

I wasn’t sure whether the Boy Wonder was practising cranio-sacral therapy on Granddad here, or phrenology, but R seemed to be feeling some therapeutic benefit so I think I should give B the benefit of the doubt. I’m pretty sure there are times when he thinks that both of our brains are underdeveloped, but he probably hasn’t got round yet to trying to map the deficits via our skull bumps.

The day started well, with the Boy springing awake at 5.50am full of energy and smiles, but sadly it hit a bit of a slough during the hiatus between us finishing breakfast and Stratford Butterfly Farm opening for business. I’m sure B’s mother told me to go away and leave her alone on numerous occasions during her childhood, but I don’t remember her starting the teenage strops at just turned three. Luckily though, my tag-team partner swept in at that point and bet the Boy a strawberry YoYo (toddler crack cocaine) that he couldn’t get into his car seat before R could count to ten, and we were soon out of the house and under way. It turned out to be a false start, admittedly, because I realised half a mile from home that I’d forgotten my camera and we had to go back for it, but this allowed us to agree that Grandma was very silly, and thus good humour was fully restored.

The best thing by far at the Butterfly Farm today turned out to be the leafcutter ants, which B found absolutely fascinating. The farm’s secondary colony of these ants, which lives in the butterfly flight room, marches back and forth at quite a low height, but even though B is at the developmental stage of wanting to touch everything that interests him, I was impressed by the fact that he remembered to “look with eyes and not fingers” and left them to go about their business unmolested.

This afternoon R and I were out in the garden with the Boy when L and G arrived with B minor, and it was touching to see B running to give the baby a hug. He is genuinely sweet and kind with his little brother – a situation which, as R told a laughing but slightly shamefaced L, is entirely outside our experience. It’s my belief that the reason H grew so tall so quickly was out of personal determination make it harder for his big sister to pick on him, though I’m aware that current scientific knowledge may not support this theory. Be that as it may, in the family B there already seems to be genuine affection between the two boys – and long may that continue.